


Father's Friend

by SummerRunaway



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, Parentlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SummerRunaway/pseuds/SummerRunaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosie Watson has lived eleven peaceful years, but when she just escapes the grasp of an old 'friend' of her fathers, she knows something bad is going on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father's Friend

**Author's Note:**

> My first fanfic - a little Parentlock :) I wrote it so as not to make is so obviously Sherlock-related until close to the end.

"He’s late." Rosie grumbled to herself. "Again."

She sighed, standing just outside the school gates, waiting for her father to pick her up. He was usually late on a Tuesday, but it had been over half an hour since school finished and Rosie was getting both annoyed and worried.

Suddenly, there was a honk from down the street, and Rosie recognized her father’s car immediately. She raced over to it, swinging open the door, and slipping inside, only for a gasp to catch in her throat. 

The man in the front seat was not her father. 

Rosie searched her mind for various scenarios, and how to escape each of them, and came up with one that would hopefully work. She giggled nervously. 

“Sorry, I thought you were my father,” she said with a small smile, and slipped back out.

When outside, Rosie scanned the car, realizing that it was not her father’s, but very similar. It was the same make and model of her father’s car, but there were some slight differences. The dent on the side door was in the exact spot as the one on her father’s car, but only a fraction smaller, and the plate was identical except for an ‘M’ that was changed to an ‘N’. 

It could have been a coincidence, but the universe was rarely so lazy.

The man got out of the car also. He was taller than her father, and had dark hair, warm eyes, and was wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans. Rosie took a couple of steps backward. 

“I would understand why you would think so,” the man replied in a sing-song voice. “It is his car.” 

Rosie decided not to tell him she knew it wasn’t, keeping a mask of indifference. 

“Don’t show all your cards.” her father had told her. “Everyone needs to keep some things secret.” 

“Why do you have it?” Rosie asked.

"He asked me to pick you up," the man replied. "I’m a friend of your father. The name’s Jim. We’ve only met once, but only when you were very young. You’re eleven now, right?" 

Heartbeat quickening, Rosie nodded. She’d never heard of this ‘Jim’, but his name did tug at her mind. 

"I have to go," she said quickly, and just as she turned, the man leaped forward and grasped her wrist. Rosie suppressed a scream, her mind racing with all the things this man could want to do with her.

But all the man did was put his mouth to her ear and whisper. “Tell your parents you bumped into me, okay?” 

Rosie nodded nervously, and ran off, finding her father’s actual car, not some close replica. She slipped in, breathing hard. 

“Everything okay?” her father asked. 

“Fine.” Rosie replied quickly. “Everything’s fine. Can we go home now?”

Her father nodded with a small laugh and pulled out of the parking spot. Rosie was silent the whole way home.

*

Rosie had been doing homework for the past hour when her father appeared in the doorway. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked. “You seem very jumpy this afternoon.” 

Rosie hesitated, then ran into her father’s arms, blurting out everything - the car, the man, how scared she was. Her father held her tightly, stroking her back as he listened.

"This man," he said when she finished. "Did he give a name?"

This was one detail Rosie had forgotten, but she remembered now. "He said his name was Jim." she answered. "And he had an Irish accent." 

Her father gasped, staring in shock at his daughter. Then he fumbled for his mobile phone, dialling quickly. 

"Dad?" Rosie queried. "What’s going on?"

Her father ignored her. “Sherlock,” he gasped. “I’m glad you picked up.”

Rosie frowned. What was so important to get her other father involved so quickly? 

“It’s Rosie,” her father explained. “I think…I think Moriarty’s after her.” 

The voice of her other father was so loud Rosie could hear him. “I’m on my way, John. Just stay right where you are.” 

Rosie had no idea what was going on, but she knew that she - Rosie Sherlock Molly Watson - was in danger.


End file.
